


Worth the Wait

by trahelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, F/F, First Kiss, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Professors, Implied Demisexuality, Living Together, M/M, One Shot, Three Broomsticks, Zonko's joke shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18827092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trahelle/pseuds/trahelle
Summary: Sometimes it hits you that you've loved someone without realizing it; with the right person, it's always worth the wait.





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Creeeee's lovely art: https://creeeee.tumblr.com/post/184854186850/a-delicate-smooch

Harry had imagined their first kiss before, but never like this. Both of them old, closer to forty than thirty, gray dusting his temples, his thin glasses traded for bifocals the previous year, Draco much the same save for creases around his eyes that no one would have predicted he’d ever be graced with during their school years. 

Hogwarts became a different sort of home for them after the war — after eighth year spent in one another’s shared space. They grew used to living together; though terse initially, their mutual acceptance of it brought with it comfort that blossomed into something closer to family than either had ever experienced.  

When McGonagall hired them on after their studies - Draco as Potions Master and Harry as Defense professor - it seemed only natural to remain living together. After jointly purchasing an old brickwork home in Hogsmeade, they set up house together, walking to and from the school each day, laughing about private matters and trading smiles. 

The years passed with Christmases at the Burrow; Draco drowning in a patented Weasley sweater, gray with a blue ‘D’ emblazoned on the front, Harry laughing himself silly, but smiling with a warm heart each time he caught Draco in it at home. They passed Draco’s birthdays traveling and Harry’s with their friends. 

Tonight had been another of Harry’s parties and Ginny, like every year, was again asking, “When are you going to make Draco an honest man?” Her arm had been draped around her wife Luna’s waist, an insolent smirk on her freckled face as she faced down Harry. In response, he’d chuckled, rubbed his neck and looked away. Despite the years between them, he and Draco had never discussed what they  _ were _ . It never seemed to matter till others asked. They were happy — sure, it was unconventional, but it was them. 

Now, thinking about it as they made their way home from the Broomsticks with cheeks rosy from alcohol and unsteadier legs than those they’d walked there with that afternoon, Harry was unsure of why — after all these years — it bothered him suddenly.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Draco said as they walked side-by-side between shops and houses on their way home.

“Ginny brought it up again,” Harry said by way of explanation.

“Bint. I’ll talk with Luna again — they need to stop pressuring us to be physical.”

Harry stopped where he stood, staring at Draco’s back as he walked on. “I thought they were talking about marriage.”

Draco turned back around to him from a few steps away. “What?”

“What do they ask you?” Harry asked, body still, hands at his sides. 

Even from this distance in the dark, he could see Draco swallow hard. “They ask… they ask me why we don’t show physical affection.”

“Would you like to?”

Draco nodded almost imperceptibly. “Because it’s you.”

“Why have you never said anything?” Harry asked, the beginnings of hurt lacing his voice.

Draco stepped closer, peering into Harry’s face openly. “I didn’t think you were ready for that.”

“I—” Harry started before stopping himself to think. He wanted to protest, to say he was  _ normal _ , that he’d always been ready for that, but Draco was right. He hadn’t been, which was why it never occurred to him. Therapy-speak about lack of physical affection during his formative years surfaced in the back of his mind, but Harry knew there could be any number of reasons. Whatever they were, Draco was right. He was right — Harry hadn’t been ready.

He felt an upswell inside him as he looked on at Draco’s sharp face — his lovely face that Harry had enjoyed watching for so many years. Something clicked. Harry hadn’t been ready, but he was now. 

The stillness in Harry’s hands was now replaced by tiny tremors that exposed his apprehension, but still he walked up to Draco, who was leaning against the alley wall of Zonko’s Joke Shop. Bracing his arm on the wall beside Draco’s shoulder, Harry leant in, searching Draco’s face for recognition of his intent. He received confirmation in the form of Draco’s blown pupils and bated breath. 

Telling his rapidly beating heart to still, Harry closed the distance between them. Draco’s lips were soft beneath his own, claiming even in gentleness. Harry wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed there, but when he pulled away it didn’t feel like enough. 

After a moment to gather himself, he hoarsely whispered, “Sorry it took me so long.”

Draco put a finger to his lips to silence him, “You were worth the wait.”


End file.
